Dawn of the Dragonborn
by mermaid1285
Summary: Everyone has their own unique story when it comes to Skyrim. This is one of many.
1. Chapter 1: Of Dawnstar

Note: Hello hello! Welcome to a fanfiction inspired by the 2011 Bethesda game, Skyrim! There will be adventure, love, loss, friendship and anything else you could imagine! I do not own anything, of course, except for the original main character and other originals. So saddle up, kids! It's gonna be a fun ride!

Chapter 1: Of Dawnstar

Eyes open. My body lurches and sways like I'm on a boat, but the crunch and scrape of gravel under hooves and wheels challenge that. The piercing light hurts as my eyes adjust, and a low unexpected groan leaves my mouth.

"You're awake," someone notes, calm and firm. I try to sit up a bit, breathing more quickly as I look around the cart. Three men are scatter around me, their hands bound in rope. Feeling a sinking in my stomach, I look to my own hands which are tied up just as tight.

"Hey! You! You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us and that thief over there." the voice spoke again, and I lift my head. The man across from me is dirty and worn, like he had just run through the dust being kicked up behind us. His blonde hair was tied back a bit and his face was relatively open. When I didn't speak, he made a motion with his hands. That explained the pounding at the base of my head and I cursed internally.

"Damn you Stormcloaks! Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy...if they hadn't been looking for you I could have stolen that more and been halfway to Hammerfell!" the horse thief looked at me, turning to face me fully. "You there, you and me shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants!" he was a peaky man in rags. He was panting so heavily you would have thought he had just finished being chased by a bear. His narrowed eyes flicked from myself to the man across from me. He was visibly shaking, and the man across from me shook his head with a sad, sour smile.

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." he murmured, turning his head away to watch as we moved slowly over the landscape.

From up at the head of the carriage, a female Guard snapped; "Shut up back there!" I flinched and ducked my head, but a frown crossed my lips. The jumpy man diagonal from me jutted out his wrapped and torn up foot towards the hulking man next to me. For the first time, I really sized him up. He wore expensive-looking furs, extravagant and gray. Probably wolf fur, that in itself impressive. His straw-colored hair was half tied up and the other half down. There was what I assumed to be a gag around his mouth, the cloth tight between his teeth. He was tensed like an injured animal waiting for its striking opportunity. Everything about him was brutish and strong. His hands, though tied, were clutched so tightly the dirty knuckles stood bright white.

"What's wrong with him?" The thief asked curiously, tilting his head sideways as he looked him over. The gagged man didn't even offer him a glance.

"Watch your tongue!" hissed the prisoner across from me. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak the true High King." I frowned in confusion, not bothering to hide my stare as I observed him. A million thoughts chased each other in my mind. I hadn't been to this providence in months, but his name wasn't that of the king I had know when I had left. What had taken place in the short months I had been away? Stormcloaks..the whispers of rebellion in taverns hadn't just been idle fantasy. Was it really war? Whatever it was, from the captured beast next to me and the spiteful glances the guards around us shot at him, it wasn't good.

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm?" My heart leapt as the thief turned the color of the pale gray cliffs we passed. "You're the leader of the rebellion. If they captured you? Oh gods, where are they taking us?" I tried to steady myself, but his words had awakened a flutter of panic in my breast. I looked all around us, trying to find an escape. I had run before and I would do it again. But as I plotted catapulting myself out of the side of the unstable cart, we started to pass under the stone arches of a village. Our destination, by the way a crowd was starting to gather.

"I don't know where we're going, but Sovengarde awaits." the prisoner across from me mused, bitter and proud. His mouth was turned up in that same sour expression. He was braver than I. He looked resigned to whatever was coming. Though my body language remained the same, I was certain my eyes betrayed my crushing terror.

The thief started to panic as well, struggling more violently against his binds. It did him no good, his eyes mad with desperation. "No! This can't be happening. This isn't happening!"

"Hey..what village are you from horse thief?" his voice was almost gentle, trying to lull the thief and stop him from his thrashing that shook the cart. He paused briefly, beady eyes narrow.

He stammered; "Why do you care?"

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home." The blonde prisoner murmured, a touch of sadness in his tone. The thief blanched, then whimpered;

"Rorikstead, I'm...I'm from Rorikstead." He sounded almost peaceful, but it was short-lived. The prisoner murmured something comforting about the village, but was quickly cut off. A short, dark-skinned man in metal armor and red approached the cart with grim triumph etched on his face. Dismounting from the cart, one of the two guards nodded respectfully.

"General Tullius sir, the headsman is waiting." He nodded once in return, only looking at us once and as if loath to do so.

"Good. Let's get this over with!" he said crisply, turning to walk ahead of the cart to wherever it was taking us. The guards on the cart got back up and cracked the reins, the cart slowly picking up again.

"Azura, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh, Divines please help me!" the thief started to wail loudly, almost like a child looking for protection after being caught stealing. Across from me, however, the prisoner sneered.

"Look at him! General Tullius the military governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him! Damn elves! I bet they had something to do with this! Ahhh, this is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Elod is still making that mead with juniper berries? Still...funny, when I was a boy Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe." there again was a strong bitterness in his voice, and I wondered what the Empire had done to make him look so…angry.

Gazing around the village, it looked plain and familiar enough. I had probably traded here before, maybe stopped on the outskirts for protection at night. The name, Helgen. I hadn't spent much time here on my travels. It looked the same as most Skyrim cities, houses and shops made from wood and stone. A little bit of a cobblestone road, tall guard towers and arches that protected the city at either entrance. It wasn't nearly as magnificent as Whiterun or Solitude, but it was familiar.

The group of people who had been curiously trailing behind continued to grow. I noticed one boy standing on the edge of his wooden porch, a huge shaggy dog sitting loyally beside him. His eyes widened and he started to bounce on his heels as he watched us.

"Who are they Pa, where are they going?" the boy's father turned back in surprise then made a shooing motion with his calloused hands.

"You need to go inside." his voice was stern, his mouth set. I blinked in surprise. It was usually encouraged by fathers that their sons watch executions. I remembered passing through villages where most lads were hoisted up on their fathers' shoulders to watch. Bravery they called it.

"Why, I wanna watch the soldiers." he insisted, sticking out a lower lip and huffing. His father pointed to the cracked door.

"Inside the house," there was no arguing, and the boy retreated inside. He patted his thigh, and his mutt trotted after him eagerly.

No sooner had the door swung shut behind him, the cart halted violently, slamming me against the splintering wooden railing. As I righted myself, I looked around nervously, my hands twitching for any kind of weapon. But I had nothing. None of my knives, no bow. I felt naked, exposed.

"Get these prisoners out of the carts." one of the guards called, more of them appearing and encircling the wagon, waiting for us to climb out.

"Why are we stopping?" the horse thief shrilled, he stood then sat, doing this several times until the prisoner across from me sighed in exasperation and nudged hi forward when he stood.

"Why do you think? End of the line. Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us." his words felt like the icy waterfalls I had stood under on a warm day. So we really were being handed over to die. I shivered once, violently. I had always known death could happen at any time, I had never expected to have to die like this. The thief stumbled down onto the dirt, still babbling.

"No! Wait! We're not rebels!" the prisoner, apparently having exerted all his patience growled;

"Face your death with some courage, thief." still, he protested. His eyes flew widely to mine, and the defeat in his eyes was tangible. When I provided nothing, his eyes flashed back to the prisoner, waiting for us to be unloaded after Ulfric, who was shoved to the side with more of the so-called Stormcloak soldiers from another cart.

"You've got to tell them we weren't with you! This is a mistake!" as he protested, I was moved to stand next to the prisoner. He and the others stood tall, their expressions all holding the same grim determination. I would have admired them perhaps. If I was watching from the safety of my own wooden porch.

"Step toward the block when we call your name one at a time!" the voice cracked like a whip, and I stumbled up between the prisoner and the horse thief, my head swimming with worry. To my left, the prisoner let out an exasperated sigh.

"Empire loves their damn lists!" he muttered, talking to me without meeting my gaze. I looked around, my breath starting to come out in pants. I dug my nails into the bindings around my wrist, trying to loosen them, trying anything. They held fast.

The Imperial who met us as we clambered down from the wagon held a piece parchment, then started to call out our names.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm." his voice rang clear, and several Stormcloaks behind us started to wail, one sinking to their knees in grief at the sight of their leader walking proudly towards the block. Sucking in a shaky breath, the man to my left said to him;

"It has been an honor...Jarl Ulfric."

Ignoring their despair, the guard spoke again. Keeping things moving.

"Ralof of Riverwood." the man to my left tilted his chin up in defiance and followed the jarl. Standing next to him, these two men were equal. Both were going to die, there were no jarls or would be kings to an execution axe.

"Lokir of Rorikstead." the guard trumpeted loudly, and the thief on my right tumbled forward. His eyes were wild and he was looking to every face before him.

"No! I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!" then, to all of our surprise, the fool took off. He stumbled once but kept running, pushing himself back up. Everyone jumped in surprise, and my heart leapt. It could be my chance to escape, with all the confusion, I could try to sneak off or hide. Or I could run too..but before I had an opening, one guard locked onto me with his eyes. The one who had been reading the names. He eyed me curiously and I cursed, knowing there was no way I could flee now. The captain, who had been standing next to the name-caller snarled;

"Halt!" and Lokir the horse thief screamed over his shoulder that they weren't going to kill him. Several guards had made a move to go and chase him down, but the captain held up her hand.

"Archers!" all around us, several Imperial shoulders whipped out bows with precision. One of them nailing the thief in the back with an arrow. He crumpled to the ground, his face and torso slamming into the stone and dirt. His flight ended before he even reached the gates. If he couldn't make it out..there was no way I could.

Huffing proudly, the captain turned to us. "Anyone else fell like running?" the guard next to her, who had been looking at me glanced down at the parchment, then back up. There was confused frown on his mouth, and beckoned me forward.

"Wait. You there, step forward." tentatively, I approached him, my breathing had picked up to shallow pants again, but I kept my expression level. Everyone had gone quiet for what seemed like ages as they looked me over. Finally, he asked softly.

"Who are you?" for the first time since I had awoken in the back of the cart, I spoke.

"Marina." I paused briefly, then lied. "Of Dawnstar." the captain and guard both exchanged a glance, then looked back at me.

"Captain, what should we do, she is not on the list." I felt a bubble of hope boil up inside my chest. Maybe they would let me go. Or commute my sentence to something else, I could escape from any cell or mine they threw me in to. The captain saw the expectance in my face and sneered;

"Forget the list, she goes to the block." the bubble burst as quickly as it had formed. I felt my head duck down a bit, like she had struck me. I had stopped panting and now barely drew breath at all. The man holding the parchment gave me a sympathetic look.

"By your orders, Captain." he turned to me and gave me a sad nod of his head. "You chose a bad time to come back to Skyrim, kinsman." he sighed, jerking his head to the captain, who had started marching the prisoners ahead of me to the block. "Follow the Captain, prisoner." I looked back to him, daring to hope for a moment that he would give me some kind of sign. But he turned away, looking grim. He didn't want to watch.

Ahead of me, the same short man who had met us at the gate approached again. He was flanked by guards as he stepped towards Ulfric, who watched him with what I could assume was a smirk behind his gag.

"Ulfric Stormcloak.. some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the voioce to murder his king and usurp his throne." I felt my mouth drop, and a shiver wracked my body. Murder of the high king..no wonder he gave off such an…animalistic feeling. Ulfric grunted through his gag, and I was suddenly immensely grateful he couldn't unleash whatever he had on the king.

General Tullius curled up his lip in disgust. "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos and now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace." there was fresh excitement and pride in voice, and the Imperials around him banged on their shields or shouted their support.

Through their cheering, was a sound.

It echoed and bounced off the mountains and down into the valley where Helgen lay. It sent a feeling through me that shook me to the core. The sound was pure power.

The guard who had spoken to me asked quietly; "What was that?" everyone had heard the noise. It continued to echo, longer than any sound I had heard before. General Tullius was not distracted.

"It's nothing, carry on!" and he went to stand by the Thalmor, who waited on horseback to watch our deaths. The captain nodded, inclining her head in respect.

"Yes, General Tulles!" she spun around to a priestess. She was dressed in simple brown robes, her head covered in a hood. She approached us timidly, coming to stand next to the block.

"Give them their last rites." the captain said, and the priestess raised her arms.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius blessing of the eight Divines upon you.." her words offered little comfort as I looked down at my bindings. I had stopped believing in gods years ago. Apparently others agreed with me. Next to the other cart, one of the Stormcloak prisoners yelled, interrupting her;

"For the love of Talos shut up and let's get this over with!" he was pushed forward to the block. The priestess stopped mid-sentence, looking mildly insulted.

"...Nirn our beloved...as you wish!" she muttered something disgruntled and moved back a few paces. The Stormcloak solider who approached the block knelt and placed his head on the bloody wood. I was impressed by his lack of fear..at the same time he was arrogant.

"Come on! I haven't got all morning! My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials, can you say the same?" those were the last words he spoke before the swing of the axe took of his head in one blow. My stomach bottomed out and I flinched, but I remained even in my expression. From behind me, one of the soldiers fell to the ground.

"You Imperial bastards!" she cried, being flung back up to her feet by the guards around her. The crowd onlookers jeered at the solider as his body was removed from the block and shoved into another small cart.

"Justice!" one Nord roared. Another cried, "Death to the Stormclaoks!" they continued to cheer their approval as the block was re-adjusted for the next unlucky soul. Next to me, Ralof murmured;

"As fearless in death as he was in life." he ducked his head, his lips moving in a silent farewell to his comrade. The captain looked back to us, and slowly raised a hand to point at…me.

"Next, the Nord girl!" all the air left my lungs and I almost let out a whimper. Straightening myself, I figured it would be best to face whatever lay ahead with some dignity. Sadness, not for myself, but for Ahkari, Ra'jhera and the rest of my family.

Again, there was a sound. This time it sounded closer, louder. It reminded me of some kind of animal cry, but unlike anything I had heard before. Yet at the same time, it was strangely…recognizable. It called to my very soul, touching my being and leaving me confused, but it also took away the crippling fear and replaced it with courage.

"There it is again, did you hear that?" my guard said again, crumpling the parchment in his hands as he raised it over his eyes to see better in the light. The captain, trying to break everyone out of the trance the animal call had caused, shouted loudly.

"I said next prisoner!" and she gave me a shove, hurrying me towards the block. I faltered, but didn't fall. Gazing at the block, I started to approach it.

"To the block, Prisoner nice and easy." my guard's voice was almost comforting. I knelt and placed my head agains the sticky wood, my stomach heaving. I laid my head on my side so I face the executioner. He was picking up his axe, still wet with fresh blood. As I braced myself, whispering a final goodbye to my loved ones, I saw it for the first time.

"What in Oblivion is that?" General Tullius roared in awe, the captain shrieked orders to the men.

"Sentries! What do you see?" behind the executioner, a huge shape soared behind the tower at incredible speed. Even at a distance away, it was the largest animal I had ever seen. Larger than the mammoths and giants that roamed the valley near Whiterun. Its color was dark as ebony ore and just as reflective in the sunlight. I watched in a daze as it gracefully spun once and disappeared behind the tall stone watchtower.

"It's in the clouds!" someone yelled, panic starting to ensue around me as guards ran by. The executioner didn't notice them, his arms raising with the axe in hand. I almost closed my eyes. If I had, I would have missed the huge creature that slammed into the top of the watchtower. The force of impact knocked the headsman to the ground in front of me as a shower of crushed rock and dirt fell around us. It leaned back and opened its mouth. Behind me, someone screamed;

"A dragon!" the boom that echoed from the dragon's mouth sent us all flying into fire and power, and I fell into nothingness for a second time that day.

Note: Annnnnndddd that's chapter one! I promise it is going to divulge into a more original story in the next chapter, but you gotta have that original opening that everyone loves. I would really appreciate some feedback, it helps me become a better writer and makes the story more interesting (hopefully) for you all!


	2. Chapter 2: Take the Leap

Chapter 2: Take the Leap

Note: Hello again! Thank you all who read and reviewed the first chapter, it really meant a lot! So this next chapter is, again, about the Dragonborn escaping Helgen. I kinda skipped over the whole tutorial part where they go through how to wield a sword and whatnot when they are escaping the village, but it doesn't really need it in my opinion. Enjoy!

I awoke to horrified screams and licking flames.

Standing was nearly impossible, my legs were weak and unstable from the force of impact when I was thrown. Shakily, I was able to struggle to my feet. Some of my clothes were singed and blackened, but the bindings on my hands remained strong.

I started looking around, trying to locate wherever the beast had gone while trying to break through the rope.

"Damn it…come ON!" I swore loudly, whipping my head around to try and find anything to cut through, when I saw Ralof and the Stormcloaks. They were running for their lives with expressions that might have been laughable if the circumstances were different.

Overhead I heard the same unbearable roar. It was so violent it shook the ground, almost knocking me down in the process. I must have made some kind of noise, for Ralof caught my eye.

"Over here, kinsman! If you want to live!" he yelled, running into the safety of a crumbling watchtower. I almost didn't go in, looking to make a flee towards towering trees that had sheltered me plenty of times. They called to me, beckoning me away from whatever chaotic hell I had landed myself in. My heart ached to disappear into them, and as I contemplated battling the flames to reach the shade, Ralof's bark brought me back.

"Marina!" startled he knew my name, I automatically trotted towards the tower. Throwing myself inside, I rolled against the floor and struck the base of the stairs. Groaning, I coughed loudly. The smoke and shock of having my breath knocked out of me left me trembling slightly.

Inside the nearly destroyed tower were the remaining Stormcloak soldiers, Ralof and to my surprise, Ulfric. He watched from the doorway with an awed and…hungry expression. It made me uneasy, the way he looked at the destruction and watched the circling terror above.

"A dragon..can it really be so?" someone whispered, dissolving into a coughing fit.

Ralof looked to the jarl with trust. "Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? Could the legends be true, my lord?" he asked, wetting his cracked lips with his tongue.

Ulfric stepped away from the doorway and shut the wooden door forcefully. As if that would keep out a dragon. He started to move to the center of the room, his large cloak of wolfskin missing from earlier.

"Legends don't burn down villages." he said firmly, running his thick fingers through his tattered hair. Turning to the winding staircase that led further up the tower, he yelled:

"We need to move, now!" his authority at that moment wasn't to be questioned, and Ralof immediately started to shoo me up the stairs. I leaned agains the wall, wanting to stop to try and catch my breath, but he urged me forward.

"Up the tower, let's go!" he said again and this time, I started to make my way up the stony tower. I picked up speed as I heard the footsteps behind me, rounding up to the first level. Just as I started to hurry to the next section of stairs, the wall on my right burst like an explosion.

I fell back against the Stormcloaks behind me, some of who started sprinting back down the stairs. Ralof, Ulfric and I threw ourselves flush against the wall. We watched in a dead silence as the dragon shoved its long head into the tower. As it moved, I couldn't help tell if I was fascinated or repulsed.

It was easily the most incredible creature I had ever seen. As tall as a mountain and twice as sleek. Covered to head to tail in what looked like armor, sharp and pointed at the ends. Two great horns purtruded from the skull and red eyes that blazed like the fire below. Opening its great jaw, flames shot out of the mouth between black, razor teeth.

Satisfied, it started to draw back, the stones starting to give way as it pulled.

'Damn thing is going to take most of the wall with it!' I thought to myself. When it was gone, relief so intense it nearly brought me to my knees swept over me like a wave. I stepped up onto the crumbled rock and looked out, shivering as I watched the tail of the dragon disappear over the top of the tower.

Ralof clambered up beside me and pointed a burning building below us. The straw roof had fallen in in the middle, flames creeping up the scorched beams.

"Do you see the inn down there?" nodding, I turned to face him. "Jump through the roof and keep going!" he said, starting to push me a bit towards the edge of the hole.

"Let go of me!" I demanded, wrenching myself away from him. "Are you mad? It will be a gods' miracle if I land anywhere in there not covered by flames!" at my outburst, Ralof chuckled.

"So you do speak." I frowned at him, opening my mouth to protest, but he pointed again.

"Go! We'll follow when we can!" He yelled, starting back down the stairs to the others. Turning back to the open window, I swallowed heavily. I had fallen from worse heights.

How bad could it be?

Backing up several paces, I launched myself out of the hole, landing inside the inn on my hands and knees. The impact didn't hurt, but my lungs burned from the smoke and my hands were scrapped from the rough wood. Looking around, I spotted a gaping hole in that led out of the inn to what look like safety. Jumping down through it, I ran out into Helgen.

The village was burning. Every structure had gone up in orange and red flames that licked towards the heavens. Stone, wood and rubble were abundant as buildings collapsed. Bodies lay charred and scorched as I jogged in a daze up the cobblestone path I had been brought in on.

Up the path ahead of me, the same Imperial guard who had been calling out names during the execution was coaxing a young boy away from a body.

"Come on, lad, over here! You're doing great." he promised, and as the boy trotted over I was startled to see it was the same child who had been told to go inside by his father. I glanced over at the body he had left behind, knowing before I even saw who it was, that it was his Pa.

"Torlof!" he roared at an older guard who had the boy safely behind him. "Keep the lad safe."

"Still alive prisoner?" he barked, making me jump. I nodded. "Stay close to me if you want to stay that way." with a taking off towards the barracks of the Imperial army.

—

We had traveled through the underground barracks for what felt like hours. I wasn't entirely sure why I had followed the man who had condemned me to die down into this labyrinth of tunnels, but he felt like a better bet than Ralof, who had charged towards the dragon with the Stormcloaks.

Once inside, he had cut my bindings. "Better you face the gods with a sword in your hands." being handed the weapon was like he had given me back an extra sense I had been missing. Even if it wasn't the daggers I was used to, it felt a lot better than nothing at all.

The barracks eventually opened up to a moist cave, the relief of something cool was tremendous. We both paused to breathe it in and chase out the lingering ash that clouded our lungs. Following a small stream, we sought the light of day that started to become visible as we walked.

Putting my hands on either side of mouth of the cave, I hoisted myself out into the sun. What lay ahead of us was the expanse of Skyrim, lush and unforgiving, but preferable to the fiery hell that raged in Helgen.

Feeling a tug at my rags, the Imperial pulled me down behind a large boulder. Overhead, the loud roar of the dragon echoed as it glided over us and soared into the distance.

"Dragons..in Skyrim. I must get the news back to the Imperial fleet." turning to me, he gave me a crooked grin. "You showed real courage back there. You should head to Riverwood. I have a friend there, blacksmith. He can help you with anything you need."

"Thank you," I said softly. "For everything." he nodded. "We help our own. These are hard times Skyrim is facing. I can only hope someone would do the same for me." And we parted.

The crisp water of the pond I had found soothed my skin, still hot from the flames. Having torn some fabric from the rags the Imperials had clothed me in, I used it to scrub away the soot and dirt that caked my hands and face. I could hear Ahkari's voice as clear as day. " _Va'Ri, a little dirt is healthy. Too much is not."_ Standing up, I looked over myself in the reflection of the pond.

I had always been slender. I had never had much to eat when I was a child, and now I never ate enough to keep up with all that I did. My fair skin had tanned a bit in the time I had been traveling, but my golden-white hair remained the same. It was blackened at the tips from the flames, but a simple slice of a sword could remedy that.

Lifting my calloused hands to my face, I brushed away any lingering smudges or blood. A small amount of tiny freckles dusted my nose, and wide blue eyes observed the reflection. Determining the rest of the cuts and bruises were tolerable, I braided my long hair back and did away with the singed ends. Looking over the reflection once more, I tried to convince myself that nothing had happened. Not the flames or the death or the beast whose roar had awakened something in me that was foreign and unwelcome.

"Riverwood," I said firmly. That was my destination. If I had a destination, I had a plan. Gripping my sword, I made my descent towards the sleepy village. Unaware of all that had been set in motion.

Note:Scene. ;) That concludes chapter 2! So after Riverwood, this is no longer going to follow the storyline we all know and love. There will be recognizable parts and chunks, but Marina's story is going to really start to ramp up. Her backstory, a chance encounter, and more dragons are all on the way! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, it means the world.


	3. Chapter 3: Second Seed Breeze

Chapter 3: Second Seed Breeze

Note: Welcome back! In this chapter we are starting to see some of Marina's traits and backstory slowly being revealed. This part might be recognizable to those who know the plot of the game. Enjoy!

* * *

The winding mountain roads were easy enough to navigate, I had been traveling on them for years. It wasn't always the safest route, clans of bandits were notorious to wander close to the roads, watching for unsuspecting victims. They weren't any concern of mine, the caravan had had plenty of encounters with thieves, most of the time it ended in trading and business. Anyone struggling to make a living could speak that language.

Today was peaceful. The month of the Second Seed always brought soft warm winds and blooming wildflowers. Playful foxes chased one another through the trees by the road, and birds sang with joy at the first signs of summer. I couldn't help the smile that spread over my lips, almost grateful for the Imperial rags that covered me. They allowed the fresh breeze to cool me as I kept up the pace to Riverwood, which I knew wasn't far away at all.

I hadn't been to Riverwood in months, right before I had left Skyrim for Elsweyr. We had stopped on the outskirts to rest and buy supplies for the rest of the journey, the last stop we wanted to make before we crossed the border. Stepping lightly, I crossed a bridge over a bubbling river that led me into Riverwood.

It was a logging village, known for the sawmill by the river that flowed past it. Wandering up into the hustling town, children, animals and adults all went about their business, nodding their heads to me in greeting. Some even said "Good afternoon," which seemed so foreign to me, as most of Skyrim's people could be as cold and harsh as the winters. Seeing the sign for blacksmith, I looked down at my rags and grimaced. I had no money to pay for any of the things I needed, when I had been captured the Imperial soldiers had taken everything. Hoping the Imperial I had befriended was good on his word, I came up along the house to the forge, knocking my grimy hand on the wood as I approached the blacksmith.

"Any friend of Hadvar's is a friend of mine," Alvor the blacksmith kept repeating with a hardy chuckle. He was a brawny man, no doubt from years of working in the forges. His forehead was covered in beads of sweat but he had a smile that took any intimidation from his build away. Though I appreciated his kindness, I just wanted to get what I needed to survive and go. I still had business to attend to, the reason I had come back to Skyrim in the first place.

"He certainly came through for me," I called over my shoulder, tying up the last of the basic leather armor Alvor had given me. I moved my braid over my shoulder and started to fasten the armor to behind my neck. "I don't know what I would have done if he hadn't helped me escape the city. Probably burn to death." I tried to joke, but the burning bodies flashed in my mind and I shivered. Eventually, I stepped out from behind the house with the armor fully secured. It hugged my figure, but offered me the mobility to dash and jump and jab, the three things I excelled at in a scrap. My hair, though dirty and matted was still pulled back in the braid that fell to the middle of my back, brushing the leather when I moved.

"I still…can't really believe it." he didn't look up when I walked over, focused on what was in his large hands. "I saw what I thought was a phoenix! Something too big to be a regular bird." as he spoke, he pulled up a leather belt and pack, shoving some daggers and coin into them. I raised a hand, a guilty pit forming in my stomach. I knew better than anyone what kindness could cost a person, even a well-off person, in these hard times.

"I…I don't need the coin," I tried to insist, but he grunted and reached to shover some dried meat and berries into the pack. It only made me flush with embarrassment, and I shifted my weight uncomfortably between my feet, encased in thick leather boots.

"It's a hard world out there, lass." he said seriously, his jolly face falling a touch. "I'm not about to send you on your way without essentials…though, I would ask you a favor."

His words made me flinch and I braced myself, wondering what he might ask of me. Noticing me tense up, he started waving his hands and saying gruffly;

"No..no no, I have a wife, kids…no.." I couldn't help but smile, at his surprise and in relief.

"What is it, then?"

"Well, the Jarl of Whiterun..I doubt he has any idea about all this dragon business.." he paused, as if trying to choose his words carefully, then continued. "The guards here..they won't believe what you told me. Hell, I barely believe it." I giggled at his words, moving a hand to cover my mouth to hide my smile. It was rare that I laughed in front of anyone but the caravan.

"But, he needs to know. Not just for Riverwood's sake, but everyone's. Can you take the message to him? Something tells me you'll be better able to convince him than anyone else. You can keep the coin and more if you do."

At the mention of Whiterun, my blood ran cold. The warm summer day suddenly felt as cold and dark as a winter's night. I hadn't been inside the gates of Whiterun in years. Automatically, I started to back up, my hip bumping into the sharpening stone.

"Alvor..I'm in a hurry. I have my own affairs to settle...I can't be expected to run messages like a courier." the blacksmith barked out a laugh at my defiance, but grew serious as he started to settle down.

"Marina, these are troubled times we live in. You know it as well as I do, it's in your eyes. I have a feeling in my bones, things aren't going to get better. They are going to get worse. There's a storm coming, you can feel it in the air. We all best be prepared when it comes." I found myself shaking my head and groaning. His words, though dramatic, were true. And with each sentence he swayed me more.

"Fine, I can make a stop in Whiterun." he started to grin, so I quickly interjected. "But! I want an extra pair of iron gauntlets and some of those apples over there." I jabbed my thumb in the direction of a basket laying on the front of his porch. Alvor's laugh roared as he tossed me the gauntlets and apples, both of which I caught in the pack he had given me.

* * *

Note: Shorter than usual! I am trying to cut down the lengths of my chapters a little bit, just so that there isn't too much in one chapter that should be saved for another. Wonder who the caravan she keeps talking about are? Why is was she so messed up when Alvor mentioned Whiterun? Next chapter, all will be revealed! Thank you as always for reading and reviewing, it is so appreciated. It helps me shape the story how I want it and how you all would like. Thanks so much!


	4. Chapter 4: Distant Horizons

Chapter 4: Distant Horizons

Note: I'm really excited about this chapter, I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did!

* * *

The trek to Whiterun was a day and a half from Riverwood. I had left the blacksmith's shop at a little before sundown, and knew I would have to make camp for the night somewhere. Alvor had offered to pay for a room at the local inn, insisting almost, but I wanted to get to Whiterun. The sooner I arrived, the sooner I could leave.

Night started to cast its blanket over the land, the sun quickly disappearing behind the mountains not long after I left the quiet village behind. Although I loved the daylight, with its warmth and beauty, the dark intrigued me.

I never really felt afraid at night. I knew enough to keep me safe, stay near the path, don't interact with strangers, watch for wolves. I didn't fear wolves. I had always been quick and quiet, usually I avoided them easily. They had bigger kills to make anyway. Fireflies glittered along the road, illuminating my path like they were guiding me. I liked to imagine they were the glowing plants and animals Ra'jhera had told in his stories, when I would lay back against the fur spreads and looked up at the stars.

"I got lost once, Khajiit are not used to these cold winds. I stumbled into a cave, frozen and disoriented…I walked for so long I feared I would never find my way out..but that was when I saw them. Biggest mushrooms, bigger than regular. They glowed, like blue moon dust or glacier ice. There were deer, they glowed in spots on their bellies, they did. This one, I had never seen anything like it in all my life."

Thinking of his soothing voice and Ahkari's hands braiding my hair made my heart sore. I missed the caravan. I missed my family.

Diverting off the cobblestone path, I started up the side of the mountain. Slipping one of my daggers into my hands, I launched myself up onto the rock. My gloved hand snared a place to hold while my dagger dug into the side of the cliff, helping to keep me steady as I adjusted my footing and started to boulder to the side, shimming my body until I was up far enough I could climb with ease.

I didn't want to scale the entire mountain, I just wanted to cut some time off my journey by going OVER, not all the way around. The Khajiit were excellent climbers, with balance and grace they easily ascended rocks in their way. I had learned mainly by observation, but that I also had had quite a bit of help. Now I was a natural, climbing with some degree of confidence. I started leaping from ledge to ledge, always taking care to make sure I was safe.

After several hours, I had built up a sweat. Worried I may not even be close, I hoisted myself up further so I could try to see the lay of the land. Whiterun, in its magnificence could be seen at night from a distance. And to my delight, I could see the outskirts of the walled city. It was a great hulking figure in the distance, solely its own entity on the open, grassy meadow. I could faintly see smoke rising from houses and taverns, candles winking at travelers from the windows.

Giving a little huff of satisfaction, I brushed some stray hair from my face, grinning proudly at myself. I had shortened the time, at least I could start the the walk through the meadow before dawn. Little did I know.

I had started my descent, jumping down with two daggers in hand so that I could try to slow my fall by dragging and digging them against the rock. I leapt graceful down each lower ledge, the grassy earth in sight. As I got ready to make my final jump, knees bent and daggers poised, a huge dark shape dashed in front of the cliff and a bit below me.

Startled, I misinterpreted the jump. I started to fall, missing the ledge before the grass and plummeting. Whipping around, I drove the daggers against the rock. The noise was unbearable, the scrape of metal on stone, but it gave enough friction to slow me down, and I tumbled onto the ground, breathing heavily.

I lay there, started and confused, sitting up slowly and running my hands into my hair to cradle my head. Underneath me, I could feel the pounding of something running. Jumping up unsteadily, I dropped the daggers and pulled out the iron sword the Imperial had given me.

Charging up to me, I saw the same dark figure that had spooked me off the cliff. It was a horse, large and strong and beautiful. But also galloping straight at me, no doubt with a rider on back. Stumbling backward till I made contact with the cliff, I held the sword in position, ready to swing. Then I heard a voice.

"Whoa whoa whoa, wait!" In the dark of night, I could make two hands held up in a sign of good-nature. Not that I let my guard down for an instant.

"What are you doing? You could have killed me! I hissed, keeping my sword pointed and my body tensed for the attack. The figure on horse back pulled on the reigns so the horse walked backwards from me, then called out;

"What am I doing? What is a woman doing jumping from cliffs like a ram?" he sounded like he was laughing, and my face flushed with heat.

"I was trying to get down, until YOU ran by on your horse like a madman!" I took a brave step forward, brandishing a fresh dagger in the hand not clutching a weapon. "What do you want from me?"

Over by the horse, I heard the thud of the a dismount. Grass and dirt crunched underfoot as the stranger approached, and I held up my sword. Stepping closer, I could get a better look, the moonlight illuminated the figure.

It was a man, a Nord. Gray and red fabric covered him while armor, so well polished it glinted, covered his chest and waist. He looked well built, but not as burly as most Nord men were from tough winters and hard labor. A dark mess of curls were windblown and tussled around his face, which was plastered with concern. For what, I wasn't sure.

"I heard you fall, I realized what I did and I came over to make sure you weren't injured. Are you?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. He took another step, and I flinched.

"That's close enough." I snapped, blowing stray blonde hair out of my eyes. He looked at me like his horse had just kicked him in the head.

"In the name of the Divines, what are you doing?" he asked, again sounding like he might laugh. Infuriated, I shoved my sword back in its sheath, but kept my dagger raised. Stomping towards him, I slammed my shoulder against his and started walking out into the meadow. Whiterun was waiting, and I wasn't going to let myself be an amusement.

"Wait," I heard him say again, and I felt his fingers brush my arm. "Do you not know who I-" I spun around, dagger at the ready and sliced his hand, leaving a shallow, but long cut. He yelped and drew back.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to encroach upon you! You're right, I almost hit you. Next time I will make sure to look up for women who decide to scale cliffs." even if he was taking a jab, there was real sincerity in his voice. It wasn't something I was used to hearing, and I paused, looking him over once again. He hadn't once reached for a weapon, or made any moment to get closer than I allowed.

Realizing he was making some headway when I didn't slice him with metal or words, he said again, more softly; "I apologize."

Sighing quietly, I held my tongue of any other jests. "As do I. You didn't know I was climbing down." he grinned, wide and warm. I was surprised at how it lite up the night, kindness radiating from him. I looked at his hand and winced.

"And I'm sorry for that." I muttered with a flick of my eyes. He shrugged.

"A lady needs her boundaries." I stifled a smirk, raising a hand to cover my lips. And for a moment we stood there in silence, with only the sounds of wind in trees and mammoth calls.

"I can..fix that. And I have some apples," I wasn't quite sure what I was trying to say, but I hated being in-debted to someone, and I owed him for slicing his hand. I didn't say anything else, feeling heat rise into my cheeks. He smiled again, holding up his hand.

"I could use some wrappings."

* * *

He was silent as I worked, carefully encircling his rough hand with pieces of cloth I had torn from the rags I had awoken in a day earlier. Beside us, a fire I'd started crackled loudly, making me jump. I wasn't sure why I was suddenly so on edge, even after dried venison and half an apple soothed my stomach. He watched my every move, making me all thumbs and tense. He had the darkest blue eyes I had ever seen, like the water that collected in glacier run-off lakes.

"I can assume you won't damage me further, will you?" he asked with a hint of a smile. I bite back a giggle, coughing as a muttered;

"Your safe from me for the evening. Unless you touch my venison again." I teased and he laughed, the sound bouncing off the mountains behind us. Peaceful quiet followed as I finished his wrap with a tight tug. Withdrawing his hand, he grinned at me.

"I'll be healed in no time at all. The priestesses of Mara would be jealous." that time I did giggle, and quickly raised a hand to hide it. His expression grew serious, and he sat back against the earth. I moved a short distance away, settling by the fire and reaching my hands towards it for warmth.

"May I ask where you were going?" he asked, having sat up and was leaning his chin into his good hand. "You aren't just wandering out here for pleasure, are you?" I gave a tiny, impish grin, but moved my hands to my knees.

"I'm..on my way to Whiterun, I have business there." I didn't say anything else and tried not to think about it. The dragon was still burned into my mind, and the effect its power had had on me. Then there was the image of being inside the city again that made me shudder. He looked at me sideways, and I almost wanted to tease him about it.

"Whiterun is one of the strongest and most comfortable cities in Skyrim," he said, matter-of-factly, as if he had been trained to do so. I rolled my eyes.

"Big cities never held much appeal for me, unless it was to make some coin." he chuckled, reclining back to watch the embers sore up into the cloudless sky. I stayed huddled, my knees drawn up against my chest. How this evening had taken a turn. I could have been halfway to Whiterun, or at the very least, sleeping. Yet here I sat, with a stranger by a fire like we were old tavern friends.

"Why so reluctant to go to Whiteun, milady?" he called, and I looked over at him with my mouth set in a defensive line. He was gazing at me with earnest curiosity, those dark blue eyes gentle as they met mine.

"I have…a history there I would rather not repeat." just talking about it make me shiver again. He sat up, moving a touch closer to me. I immediately moved away, on instinct. Pausing, he leaned back to his original position.

"Tell me." he asked, that same kindness I was so unaccustomed to in his tone. "Everyone has their own reasons to run," he murmured, looking over to the horse that was tied against a nearby oak. So he had been fleeing something. From what, I did not know.

I hadn't felt this curious about anyone in years, at least, anyone outside of the caravan. Nor had anyone ever asked ME what I hid beneath my armor and eyes. Huffing out a little sigh, I decided to bargain, like with the merchants in markets.

"If I tell you, would you take me to Whiterun?" I gestured my head to his resting horse. "It would save me time..and I could get it over with more quickly." his mouth turned up in a smile that lit all the way up to his eyes, that crinkled in the corners.

"That I can do."

Pausing, I settled back against the base of a tree, and pulled out one of the daggers, tracing the handle in my hands.

"It isn't a happy story," I whispered.

"No one's life is entirely happy, little ram." he murmured, and I raised an eyebrow at his teasing. But it helped, lightened the mood. So I breathed deeply several times, and began.

* * *

Note: Cliffhanger! I'm sorry! ;) But I really wanted to dedicate a whole chapter to Marina's backstory in flashback form. Wonder who this stranger is? What happens when she drags up the past? Find out next time! Thank you so much for taking the time to read and review, I hope you all continue to like the story. Any feedback really means a lot!


	5. Chapter 5: Who Are You

Chapter 5: Who Are You

Note: Hellooooo everyone! Sorry for the wait, I had a lot of stuff to do in real life and this chapter was a hell of a lot to write. Just a heads up, there is some instance of violence and physical abuse in this chapter, so if that is triggering please be warned. We finally get all Of Marina's backstory, and damn is it a doozy.

* * *

I closed my eyes and thought back, 13 years of memories back, to the small, frightened six-year-old.

 _Every morning the little blonde would wake up to light that trickled through the cracks in the ceiling and shone on my face, alerting me that it was time to get up before he did. Next to her, there was a soft grumble and the warm furs were tugged more to her sister's side. Dark hair was the only thing she could see from her, everything else huddled to the side. She paused, considering poking her to wake her up. That would only earn her a bat on the arm and loud grumbling that neither of us needed._

 _There was always the threat of a beating looming overhead. His temper could be snapped at any moment, and any noise before dawn would do just that. Dressing quickly like she did every morning, she dashed to the hearth of the small wooden home they had lived in ever since she could remember. Grabbing some small morsel she could scrape near the dimmed fire in the hearth, she started to head to the door, my loose blond hair bouncing with every step. As the little blonde reached the creaky handle, above her on the second level of the house, the wooden floor groaned with the weight that was him getting out of his bed upstairs. She bolted out the door, almost dropping the wedge of cheese._

* * *

 _"What do you want to play today?" the short, brown-haired girl had asked as they passed the trickling stream that flowed through Whiterun, adding to the constant music of town life._

 _"I don't know. Maybe hide and seek?" the blonde's mind was elsewhere, her hands shaking as they walked. Her mother and sister had been ill for days. Her mama, with her soft hands that held her face when she was scared, who hide her and her sister when he was mad. Whose dark hair and warm brown eyes that crinkled when she smiled. Who told her stories and how much she loved her every day, no matter what happened. For the past couple days, she hadn't left bed, and he was angrier than ever, more bottles of wine being thrown. Her sister, with her dark hair and green eyes was coughing so often, it was almost scary not to hear them cough. She didn't know what to do. Her father would bark at her to fetch water and food for them while he stumbled to the tavern, spending his nights there and his days asleep in twice-broken chair by the hearthfire, his brown hair soaked with sweat._

 _Today, mama had told her to go play. That she had done enough for one day, that Mama and Ayna what be waiting when she came home._

 _"Go find Lydia, Marina. Go play with her, enjoy the day." and the little blonde had nodded obediently, but clutched her mother's hand in desperation._

 _"I can get more water..I can tell you stories! I can, mama!" she insisted, tears in her eyes. Next to her mother, her sister started coughing again loudly, and her mother rubbed her back while still holding Marina's hand._

 _"No no..it is nice day. The merchants are out, the birds are out. It is a day to be happy." she had said, placing a hand on her daughter's chin. There was adoration in her eyes as she carefully said;_

 _"Marina, you are so strong. My strong daughter. I love you..Ayna loves you.." and she stopped. Of course she didn't say he loved her. He didn't love anyone. Her big sister coughed again, loudly._

 _"I love you." she said again. "Never let it leave your mind. Be brave always. You are..so special." she kept insisting, the little girl noticing how her mother was growing more hurried in her speech._

 _"I love you too, mama." she said, growing frightened by her mother's hurried words. She looked like she was going to say something else, when below, there was loud grumbling and stomping. Her mother looked to the little girl in desperation._

 _"Out the window, my love. Don't let him hurt you anymore. It will be alright, go find Lydia. I love you..I love you.."_

* * *

 _Lydia and the girl rounded the corner to Breezehome, Lydia holding her hand as they walked. The blonde had been crying again, so Lydia had taken her to see her father. He had given them sweet rolls and sat with the girls while the blonde eventually stopped crying, assuring her that everything would be alright. After he had patted both of their heads, he had gone to meet with the Companions who waited in respectful silence for their leader. Both little girls watched him go in awe._

 _"He..he is very nice." the little blonde had said as she wiped her lips of the sweet roll, and her friend smiled tenderly._

 _"He is, every one in the Companions tells me so!" she said with a huge smile. The little girl looked away, feeling an odd tug at her heart. Her father never said anything kind to her, or her family. The brown haired girl looked at her crestfallen friend and reached to hug her._

 _"I'll always be there to give you a hug, even if your mean old pa won't. I'll always be there to protect you." she insisted, hugging her as hard as she could._

 _As the approached Breezehome now, there was a crowd of people surrounding it. All neighbors and friends, everyone the little blonde had known most of her life. Now, as they turned around to see her, their expressions grew sad. Lydia's hand released hers as she noticed her mother standing closer to the door._

 _"Mama?" she asked, and the little blonde followed. Spinning around, Lydia's mother hurried to their side. "Oh, Lydi, you need to go home to Pa. Go get Papa and the Companions. go now." she insisted, coming to kneel in front of the little blonde, who looked around in confusion._

 _"Why are there so many people in front of my house?" she asked in confusion, her big blue eyes wide with fear._

 _"Marina….Metia was my dear friend.." she whispered, and as she began to speak again, there was a roar of anger from the doorway of her home._

 _"Give me my damn wife! She's fine! Just asleep…Oh Metia, Ayna, no!" he wailed loudly, like a wounded animal, and the little girl tried to turn and see._

 _"Mama?" she asked, panic fluttering in her chest. Lydia's mother took her in her arms and shielded her while her father yowled and wailed in the background._

 _"Don't look, dear one, don't look.."_

* * *

 _Months passed. He only got worse. She tried not to be at home, for when he was he would strike her so fiercely her head would spin. That's why she now lay camped out under the Gildergreen tree, just below the branches as rain and thunder showered her. Covered in bruises, she had tried to make it to the Companions, but had given up and lay broken under the tree._

 _She had only mentioned her mother and he had snapped that night, the night before she had eaten the last scrap of bread. The night before that, she was sleeping when she should have been cooking. His rage followed her everywhere. Then only time he wasn't yelling was when he was asleep upstairs. She didn't know why he was so angry, but it never ended. It had only gotten worse since her mother and sister had died. The instant their burial was over and the people had dispersed, he had smacked her upside the head and told her to take their well-wished gifts back to the house._

 _She didn't know what to do. Every day was worse than the last, and fear followed her like a dark cloud. So there she lay, sobbing under the tree, wondering what she had done to make him hit her so._

 _That's when she heard the grumbling and stumbling of someone trying to make their way through the puddles of the streets._

 _"Marina! Where…where are you..stupid girl.." and she frozen as their eyes met. He started to lunge for her and she dove out of the way, wincing at her bruised arms as they collided against the stone paving. He snared her arm in his large hand and started to drag her home. She twisted and tugged, trying to free herself, but he held fast. As they started to approach the Breezehome, he slipped in the collecting water and fell, cursing loudly. As he did, several Whiterun guards started to approach and he released her arm, giving her enough time to bolt past everyone, push open the gate and to keep running as hard and as long as she could._

* * *

 _For two days she stumbled through the woods that were on the outskirts of the meadows from Whiterun, and the little blonde never looked back, there was nothing there that she could ever want to return to. Not even her friend, who had promised to protect her. And for those two days, she lived off of stream water and berries she recognized as safe, that her Ayna had taught her from a book she had read._

 _On the third morning, while curled up asleep under several trees, she awoke to the sound of hushed voices around her. Blue eyes snapping open, there were the shape of figures around her. She squeaked and backed up nervously, looking around her as the figures came into view, murmuring in a language she couldn't understand. There were four of them, tall lean creatures with catlike features, tails, and pointed ears. The Khajiit._

 _She had seen them before, on the outskirts of Whiterun trading with merchants who had come out to do business with them. They weren't allowed in most major cities, most had had a reputation as thieves and Skooma pushers. The little blonde tried to hold back tears and met their gazes strongly, surprising them, one of them evening chuckling softly. The sound was mixed with a purr._

 _"This one is brave." he said, his voice soft and kind. She wasn't used to kindness in the months following the deaths of her sister and mother, and she flinched as if he had struck her. His fur was a soft gray and brown, black strips and marks lining his face and arms, taunt whiskers prominent on his cheeks. Next to him, a female Khajiit approached her ever so slowly, sensing her distress._

 _"Peace now, little one.." she murmured, her voice like warm milk. She stepped closer to the little girl, her wide green eyes full of tenderness. The little girl flinched as she reached towards her, and the Khajiit stopped immiedatly, not wanting to upset her. Since she was the closest, she was the first to see the purple and green bruises covering the girl from head to toe, and her eyes took on immeasurable sadness. She murmured something in Khajiit to the other two besides the the gray and brown Khajiit, who took off._

 _"Why are you out here..?" she asked softly, moving to sit cross-legged in front of her. The little girl watched her carefully, before answering in a horse voice;_

 _"I didn't want to be there anymore." she whispered, wrapped her arms around herself, trying to give herself some kind of comfort. The female nodded slowly, giving her a soft smile._

 _"You're very brave to be out here on your own, you know." she told her, and the little blonde lit up a bit, almost smiling. Her mother had called her brave too._

 _"I am?" she asked the Khajiit, who seemed very pleased she was talking to her._

 _"You are. But, you see, we aren't as brave as you." the little girl looked up at her in awe. "We could use someone as brave as you to guard us while we have our supper tonight, if you would like to join us."_

 _The little 6 year old looked at them in awe, her blue eyes twinkling at the kindness they were offering her, and she even giggled. Even if the sound was horse and sick with lack of sleep and food._

 _"I can protect you." the little girl promised, and the Khajiit's smile was radiant. Behind her, the male chuckled gently._

 _"Well, how kind of you. I am Ahkari. That one is Ra'jhera." the gray and brown one waved at her in a friendly manner._

 _"I'm Marina."_

* * *

 _That night, she dined with a Khajit caravan. As soon as she was full, she had fallen asleep next to Ahkari, snuggling against her and finding a warm happiness she had not felt since her mother. Perhaps never. From that day forward, she was taken in by the caravan. Ahkari and Ra'jhera were a mated pair, then there was Za'ir, Shaar, Nataba and Fa'sien. All of them were welcoming and kind to the little blonde, like an extended family of aunts and uncles. They all cared for her, but Ahkari and Ra'jhera were her "parents" so to speak. She slept in their tent, Ahkari would dote on her, teach her, bath her and take care of her as her mother. Ra'jhera was her adoring adopted father, telling her stories every night and telling her every day how brave she was, and who she could become._

 _For the next 13 years she grew up with them. She grew strong, fast, intelligent and a very accomplished swordswoman. They taught her how to bargain with merchants, being a nord she would go into cities that wouldn't allow the caravan with Khajiit goods. She learned how to hunt and survive in woods. Everything she learned, she did from them. And she was grateful to them, humble and quiet she had never loved anyone more than she loved the caravan. Not even her mother._

 _For 13 years she grew stronger. She buried her painful past behind her, never wanting to return to Whiterun again. Even though she could kill him, even though she finally had everything she needed to finally get her revenge, for herself and for her mother and sister, she didn't want to. Ra'jhera had called her Va-Ri all her life, which meant great and brave leader. She wanted to live up to it. She wanted to live up to who they believed her to be ever since they found that little blonde Nord in the woods._

* * *

Note: And there we have it. Her full backstory. Now that we know where Marina comes from, let's see where she is going. The next chapter will pick back up where she left off by the fire with the stranger. She will finally make it to Whiterun and then we might have some dragon mischief...maybe even some realization of what a "Dragonborn" is...stay tuned! As always, thank you so much for reading and reviewing. It means the world to me.


End file.
